Chapter 1: The Awakening
There was no light.
No sound.
No warmth.
Only darkness.
Han Feng didn't know how long he had been there.
Perhaps seconds.
Perhaps centuries.
Time had lost its meaning.
His consciousness drifted through the void like a fragment of dust carried by an endless current.
Then a name surfaced.
Li Tianhao.
His name.
Or rather...
The name he used to have.
Fragments of memories followed.
A small apartment.
Cold rain against a window.
Long nights spent staring at a computer screen.
Ordinary meals.
Ordinary work.
Ordinary days.
Nothing extraordinary.
He hadn't been a hero.
He hadn't been a villain.
He had simply lived.
And then...
He had died.
The memory was strangely distant.
There was no clear image of his final moments.
Only the sensation of something ending.
Han Feng tried to remember more.
He couldn't.
The darkness swallowed everything.
Then—
Heat.
A sudden burst of warmth pierced through his consciousness.
Han Feng's thoughts scattered.
Something was pulling him.
Not forward.
Not backward.
Somewhere else.
He tried to resist.
There was no strength in his consciousness.
The darkness collapsed around him.
Then came pain.
His first breath was violent.
Han Feng's lungs filled with cold morning air.
He coughed.
His body felt heavy.
Real.
Too real.
He opened his eyes.
Blue sky.
That was the first thing he saw.
A few clouds drifted lazily across it.
For several seconds, Han Feng simply stared.
Then he felt the grass beneath his back.
The wind against his skin.
The smell of damp soil.
The distant sound of birds.
He slowly raised his hand.
Small.
Thin.
Young.
Han Feng froze.
His breathing stopped.
"This isn't..."
His voice was unfamiliar.
Too young.
Too weak.
He immediately sat up.
The movement made his head spin.
He pressed a hand against his forehead.
Then the memories came.
Not one at a time.
All at once.
A village.
A river.
A forest.
A wooden cabin.
Faces he didn't recognize.
Names he had never heard.
Training.
Hunger.
Loneliness.
Humiliation.
Fear.
Han Feng's expression became increasingly pale.
He saw a boy.
Thirteen years old.
An orphan.
A child who had grown up without parents, without influence, and without anyone willing to protect him.
His name was Han Feng.
The same name.
But not the same person.
Han Feng closed his eyes.
He remained silent for a long time.
When he opened them again, his expression had changed.
"Reincarnation..."
The word left his mouth almost unconsciously.
He looked around.
The landscape was unfamiliar.
Beyond the trees stood a small village surrounded by wooden walls.
Misty River Village.
The name surfaced from the inherited memories.
A remote settlement located near the borderlands of a vast empire.
A place where ordinary people struggled to survive.
A place where strength determined status.
Han Feng slowly stood.
His legs trembled.
He almost fell.
He caught himself against a nearby tree.
The body was weak.
Very weak.
His expression darkened.
He searched through his memories again.
This world was not Earth.
There were no machines.
No cities filled with skyscrapers.
No familiar technology.
Instead, there were cultivators.
People who refined Qi to strengthen their bodies and spirits.
And then there were Gu Masters.
People who raised mysterious creatures known as Gu and used them to produce abilities far beyond those of ordinary humans.
Two paths.
Two systems.
Two ways to become powerful.
Han Feng looked down at his hands.
The original Han Feng had possessed neither wealth nor talent.
He was an orphan.
He had no powerful family behind him.
No master.
No inheritance.
No special status.
If nothing changed, his future was already written.
A lifetime of labor.
Poverty.
Perhaps death in some forgotten corner of the village.
Han Feng let out a quiet breath.
"Great."
There was no fear in his voice.
Only resignation.
Then something caught his attention.
A strange sensation.
Deep within his mind.
Han Feng frowned.
It felt like a foreign object buried beneath his consciousness.
He closed his eyes.
The world disappeared.
His consciousness sank inward.
Deeper.
And deeper.
Until—
He saw it.
Han Feng's thoughts stopped.
A vast darkness stretched before him.
At its center floated a strange formation.
A hexagram.
Its six points were connected by intricate lines, each one glowing with faint golden light.
Symbols covered its surface.
Ancient.
Unfamiliar.
Yet strangely captivating.
Han Feng stared at it.
He had never seen anything like it.
Not on Earth.
Not in the memories of the original Han Feng.
It shouldn't exist.
He slowly approached.
His consciousness extended toward the formation.
The instant he touched it—
Boom!
A wave of energy exploded through his mind.
Han Feng's body trembled.
Energy surged through his meridians.
For a moment, he thought his body would tear apart.
Then the sensation disappeared.
Silence returned.
Han Feng breathed heavily.
His eyes remained fixed on the hexagram.
Something had changed.
He could feel it.
The energy was still there.
Waiting.
He didn't know what it was.
He didn't know where it came from.
And he certainly didn't know why it had appeared inside him.
But there was one thing he understood.
This thing did not belong to this world.
Han Feng's expression became solemn.
He reached toward the hexagram again.
This time, nothing happened.
No voice.
No explanation.
No mysterious inheritance descended into his mind.
Only silence.
Han Feng slowly lowered his hand.
A strange feeling appeared in his chest.
Not excitement.
Not fear.
Opportunity.
That was the only word he could think of.
This world was dangerous.
He was weak.
He had nothing.
But perhaps...
He wasn't completely empty-handed.
Han Feng opened his eyes.
The morning sun had begun to rise above Misty River Village.
Golden light spread across the wooden rooftops.
He looked toward the village.
The people there knew nothing about him.
They saw only an orphan.
A weak boy with no future.
Han Feng's gaze gradually hardened.
That was fine.
Let them think that.
For now, he had no reason to reveal anything.
He knew almost nothing about this world.
He knew almost nothing about the hexagram.
And until he understood both...
He would remain silent.
Han Feng turned toward the village.
One step.
Then another.
The road ahead was unknown.
His future was uncertain.
But for the first time since waking in this strange world...
Han Feng felt something he had not felt in his previous life.
Possibility.
Behind him, the wind passed through the grass.
Deep within his consciousness, the mysterious hexagram pulsed once.
Then fell silent.
Han Feng did not notice.
But somewhere within that ancient formation...
A single symbol had begun to glow.